Training Complex, Young Defenders Training Facility, Meritas City. October 1st, 2014, 09:30AM

  I’d tried to put the whole “headbutting Glory” thing behind me, which proved difficult. She was going to be my classmate for at least the next year, and quite possibly the single worst thing that could have happened, happened.

  Not just that, but the Quads - along with the entire campus - had surveillance everywhere; from drones, to cameras, or even just people with enhanced senses. There was no way in hell that someone hadn’t seen what happened yesterday.

  I didn’t tell Dad anything; how the hell could I? “Hey Dad, first day and I got into a fight with the strongest girl in the program.”?

  But the next morning, nobody had said anything. Red hadn’t pulled me aside, Glory hadn’t come after me or said anything, I hadn’t been looked at differently by anybody, nothing.

  Somehow, that made me feel more tense.

  Thankfully, rather than starting off in the Special Case room - thank god - it was straight to the first class: Martial Arts. Maybe that would help take my mind off of things.

  It took us to the Training Complex, that massive fortified building. Inside, it was a series of massive gymnasiums mixed with different kinds of hi-tech training systems. Inside, the gymnasium we were brought into was sleek, pristine, and made out of these panels slotted into the floor, walls, and ceilings.

  The class was primarily first-years, though a couple of older students stood off to the sides. All of the first-years were dressed in a generic training uniform - almost identical to the ones we’d worn for the tryouts, black with different coloured accents. It felt weird that the last time I’d worn this was when I’d first met Elena.

  Our teacher was someone I immediately recognised: Mr. House, who’d been the instructor at the tryouts in the first place, which felt even weirder given I was wearing practically the same thing I’d met him in. He looked the exact same as when I’d first met him, too; muscular, same short black hair, same black t-shirt and the same white tracksuit bottoms. It was almost uncanny.

  “Alright first-years,” He grumbled, “Consider this an introduction to Martial Arts, if you haven’t taken it up in your off-time. Before we get started, I just want to clear something up, something that gets asked every year: ‘why do I need to learn martial arts? I already have these powers!’, which is exactly why you need to learn martial arts!”

  That got people’s attention. I saw a few students’ heads perk up.

  “Some of you have powers that are more suited for hand-to-hand combat; super-strength, super-speed, some other bodily ability. You need to learn how to actually throw a punch and protect yourself; super-strength doesn’t mean a goddamn thing if the other guy knocks you on your ass before you can touch him.”

  Immediately, images of the fights at the bank and against Slaughterhouse flashed in my mind, how so much of that night I’d been flailing wildly, barely able to actually throw a proper punch, and getting thrown around like a ragdoll the second she got her hands on me.

  “Some of you have more ranged abilities, or abilities that maybe don’t have immediate use in a fight, or you have the physicality of a normal person. You probably need to learn martial arts more than the frontliners do; because if you don’t, you won’t be able to defend yourself, and then you’ll die!”

  The bluntness of that last sentence sent a chill throughout the room. I felt Elena shudder next to me. She’d had a close brush with Slaughterhouse that night too.

  “Thankfully,” he said, gesturing to the second- and third-years off to the side, “These students have volunteered to be teachers, getting you to grips with martial arts. They’ll be your trainers, sparring partners, and your harshest critics. So, get in a group, pick a teacher, and get ready to get thrown about. Keep usage of your powers to a minimum; I see anyone trying to light asses on fire, you’re dealing with me personally.”

  We began to move, huddling into groups with these older students acting as leaders. Elena and I gathered with a group that met with a student who called himself ‘Scabbard’, a positively jacked late-teen or early-twenties guy with short dark red hair, wearing a costume that looked like a knight’s suit of armour coloured a navy blue.

  He didn’t waste any time, getting us to spar in pairs; my sparring partner was another student, called herself May Bell, about three or four inches shorter than me, her training uniform marked with bright pink accents.

  Her attacks were quick, a series of rapid jabs and kicks. I tried to block and counter as best as I could, but I was uncoordinated. Every hit from May Bell felt like a hammer cracking against me, hard enough to make me flinch or stumble.

  “Time!” Scabbard shouted, bringing the fight to a halt. He stepped between us, turning to me with a steady expression.

  “You’re telegraphing your punches too much.” He said, his voice low with a faint southern drawl. He stepped next to me, putting his hands on my shoulders. “Keep your arms up and bent, then extend your wrist. Pulling it back doesn’t give enough power for how much it telegraphs.”

  He helped to position my arms properly, following through with the motion. I tried to mimic it as best as I could: arms up and bent, then extended the fist with a snap.

  We started fighting again. I copied the motion: bend, then extend. My arm shot out; it felt more natural, quicker, but May Bell caught it with her hand.

  “Not bad,” Scabbard said, nodding. “Now, lean into it, twist your hips.”

  I tried again, twisting into the punch as I threw it. This time, it hit May Bell’s arm with a crack. She winced, but gave me a nod.

  “Whoa.” I gasped. I’d thrown punches before but this felt completely different. It felt like something had connected in my brain, like I’d learned something life-changing. We went a few more rounds, with Scabbard intervening every now and then to give us pointers.

  “Exhale with each punch, don’t hold your breath back.”

  “Extend through the target, don’t stop short.”

  “Bring your hand back, quick!”

  Every pointer felt like I was putting together a puzzle on how to fight, and I was getting to grips with it pretty fast. Gradually, the punches felt stronger, neater. I managed to get a few strong hits on May Bell, hard enough to make her wince and stagger.

  “S-Sorry!” I shouted, sheepish.

  “Don’t apologise, this is the ass-kicking class!” She said with a grin, rushing forward.

  THUD!

  I landed with a thud on the practice mat, leg kicked out from under me. I groaned, pushing myself up into a seated position.

  Scabbard held out a hand to pull me up.

  “Not bad.” He said. “Just gotta keep an eye on the legs.”

  I nodded as he pulled me up. “W-Watch the legs, r-right.” I said, hoping that would make it sink in.

  “You wanna go another round, or you need a breather?”

  I looked around, realising I felt drained already. To be fair, I had gone several rounds of back and forth punches, kicks, and grapples.

  “A-Am I ok to take a sec?” I asked, feeling myself shrink.

  He nodded. “Take five, then. Who’s next?” He asked, turning to the rest of our small group.

  I hobbled over to the benches on the side where some of the other first-years - many of them looking about the same as I did - were seated, talking and watching.

  Despite how sore I felt, this felt good to actually hit things properly. As I sat down, watching the other students doing their martial arts training - anything from jabs, to kicks, to grapples, even chokeholds, which surprised me - I caught myself watching Elena. She was in the middle of a grapple with Scabbard - which seemed unfair since he looked to be over a foot taller and significantly heavier than her - and she wasn’t doing so hot, tapping out after a couple of seconds. But even then, she just stood up, brushed herself off, and got to chatting to him like it was nothing.

  I found myself smiling as I watched her. She made talking to everyone look so natural. But as I watched, I found my eyes wandering, looking at her face, her legs, her-

  “Wow you’ve really fallen for her, huh?” A familiar voice brushed my ear. I practically jumped out of my skin with a yelp, shooting away.

  “I- Wh-wha- n-no I-” I started, words catching.

  I turned to look at who’d spoken to me, only to find Maddie - fully dressed in her Cheshire costume - staring back at me with that same mischievous grin on her face.

  “Save it, babe.” She said, scooting closer to me. “I’ve seen enough crushes to spot them a mile off, and I could see yours from space.”

  I tried to ignore her, staring ahead, and very much trying not to look at Elena, like I was trying to prove a point.

  “Oh yeah, you’re really pulling the wool over my eyes.” Maddie said, sarcastically. I froze. Could she read my mind?

  “No I can’t read your mind, babe.”

  I just stared at her, incredulous.

  She was barely even looking at me, just looking at her nails.

  “W-what do you want?” I asked, turning away from her.

  “What, a girl can’t check in on a new friend?” She responded.

  “We’re n-not-”

  “Ouch!” She said, dramatic. “That’s how you treat me? Didn’t think you were a rude one, Skye.”

  I felt bad, sinking in my seat slightly. “S-Sorry, I-”

  She tapped me on the shoulder with a laugh, causing me to flinch away on instinct. “I’m joshing you, you’re totally fine.” She leaned in, watching the rest of the class. I glanced over, watching her; her eyes were constantly flickering and darting around, like she was trying to look at every possible thing in the room.

  “Why are y-you here?” I asked, “You j-joining in?”

  She let out a loud bark of laughter. “Fuck off am I! I can hold myself well enough in a fight, thanks. I just wanted to get a vibe check, see how you two newbies are doing.”

  I narrowed my eyes. Why was she so interested in us? Was it just because we were new, or did she have something to hide?

  “So why’d you do it?” She whispered, leaning in to me.

  I froze.

  “D-do what?”

  “Slaughterhouse, babe. That whole situation.”

  I felt myself relax; she wasn’t talking about yesterday…Then I immediately tensed up. How did she know that it was me that had gone up against Slaughterhouse? Had Jessica told her?

  “Relax,” she said, “Jessie told me, but your secret’s safe with me, not gonna tell a soul.”

  “T-Then why-”

  “Because honestly? I’m nosy. And you’re a little bit of an enigma, y’know?”

  “Am I?”

  “Duh.” She said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “A girl like you, all quiet and anxious and withdrawn, but you go toe-to-toe with that monster and win? Come on babe, if you were me wouldn’t you be curious?”

  Really wish she’d stop calling me ‘babe’.

  I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. She was right, I’d be baffled as to why someone like me did what I did; I was baffled.

  “I-I…” I remembered the carnage, Slaughterhouse mowing people down like they were flies, and how she’d wrapped her hands around Glory.

  “Slaughterh- house was a monster.” I said, “She was hurting so many p-people. I-I was there, I have powers. It f-felt wrong to not do something.”

  Maddie looked at me, narrowing her eyes, not saying anything.

  I turned to look at her, meeting her eyes and immediately feeling the urge to look away. It was like she was staring at an open book, trying to absorb every single page.

  “Fair enough.” She said, shrugging before standing up.

  “Wait, what?” I asked, baffled.

  “If that’s what you believe, babe, who am I to stop you?” She said, standing up to her full height and stretching, before she turned around to leave. “Nice talking to you, newbie. Remember, secret’s safe with me. Toodles!”

  I watched her saunter out, not even drawing anyone else’s eyes. Truthfully, I didn’t feel like it was that safe at all.

  Academic Hall, Young Defenders Training Facility, Meritas City. October 1st, 2014, 11:30

  Next class was Power Usage. Truthfully, this was the one that I’d been the most interested in, mainly because it was so broad.

  The classroom was fairly small, only six of us in the room; me, Elena, two boys, and two girls. We were all dressed in our own clothes, save for one boy who was dressed in what looked like beige monk robes. It was enough of a contrast that I did a visible double-take as soon as I saw him, not that he seemed to notice.

  But that was nothing compared to our teacher. He was a bit of an odd character, even as superheroes go. Tall and wiry, looked Japanese. Dyed dark green hair, but what struck me were the lines of grey scales across his hands and his face, just below the eyes and mouth. His costume was weird too, looking like a suit of green scales, with a domino mask made in that same pattern.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  “Hello everyone!” He shouted, making us all flinch, even Elena. “It is a great pleasure to meet you all, new first-years!”

  He turned around, writing on the digital board behind him. “The name you may call me, is Droptail!” He turned to look at us. “So, before we begin, what do you all know about superpowers themselves? All of us here have them, of course, but how? Why?”

  I raised my hand, slowly.

  “Yes!” He yelled - god he was so loud.

  “T-they’re the result of us suffering n-near-…near-death experiences.” I murmured.

  “Correct!” He spun, writing on the board again. “All of us in this room, at some point in our life, have suffered a near-death experience, and that experience - what the smart people call ‘Manifestation Events’ - resulted in us developing the exact powers we needed to survive!”

  I’d heard this before, pretty much anyone who knew anything about superhumans and superpowers did. It wasn’t exactly new information to me.

  “Now, the strangeness comes from who manifests what. Two of you could suffer the same experience and come out with two completely different powers, or maybe none at all. For example!”

  He turned around while he was in the middle of writing, grinning at all of-

  I did a bit of a double-take; Elena did too, alongside one of the other kids.

  His hand was floating, still writing on the board.

  While he had turned around to look at us, his right hand was now detached from his arm, writing away like nothing had happened, while the arm had an empty stump.

  “Very observant, my students!” He shouted, practically cackling. “You see, this is my ability!”

  He held his arms out wide like he was about to present something, before the rest of his body began to come apart, separating into neat geometric chunks; his arms, legs, and torso splitting off into several pieces each until there were about fifty or so pieces of him floating around in a vaguely-humanoid shape.

  “Impressive, no?” He asked, the pieces joining back together with a series of small wet thunks, “Stepped on an old landmine back in Japan and got blown to kingdom come! When I came to, I could put the pieces back together and control them!”

  As if to prove a point, he held his arm in front of him, the arm separating into segments before floating forward in a line.

  “You may be thinking, ‘how is this useful in a fight?’ I will show you! YOU!”

  He yelled, loud enough to make us all jump, his hand now separated from him fully and pointing right at the kid in the beige robes.

  “Yeah?” He said, looking up.

  “What is your name?”

  He spluttered for a second. “I uh- Skywalker?”

  The name stopped me dead in my tracks. Skywalker? I thought. Like that old 70s B-movie?

  “Come, face me! Show me what you’ve got!” Droptail shouted to him.

  He looked around, before slowly stepping to Droptail.

  “My boy, use whatever powers you have, and try your best to kill me!”

  There was a wave of gasps: from confusion, even slight horror at the audacity of that request. The boy at the front took a step forward.

  “You…you sure, Mr. Droptail?” He asked.

  “Absolutely!” Droptail shouted. “My life is in your hands.”

  The boy looked around at the rest of us, like he was looking for a way out. But eventually, he reached into his robe and drew a wooden sword; like one of those swords you’d see Japanese fencers train with, ‘bokken’, I think?

  He held it out in front of him, taking a breath, before the entire blade of the wooden sword began glowing a bright golden colour, a soft humming sound emanating from it.

  “You sure about this?” The kid asked Droptail. Droptail just nodded, still smiling.

  The kid shrugged, before taking a swing, the glowing blade letting out a loud, violent hum. Several of us, me included, gasped as it swung clean into Droptail, cutting through him.

  Until he started laughing.

  It looked like the blade had cut through him, but Droptail’s torso had split diagonally, creating a perfect gap for the blade to slip into.

  “Nice try! Again!”

  Skywalker swung again. And again. And again. With each swing, Droptail’s body separated perfectly to avoid it.

  A horizontal swing? Droptail’s chest popped up into the air.

  A vertical swing? Droptail’s body split neatly in half.

  Then he tried to stab Droptail directly through the chest. We thought it worked, with Droptail even acting like he’d finally been hit, gasping and spluttering. Except he’d popped out the chunk of his body that had been stabbed right before impact.

  Eventually, with a chortle, he patted Skywalker on the back, getting him to sit back down.

  “Being able to separate like this, once I was able to do it properly, means that in a hand-to-hand fight, I am like a ghost! They cannot touch me.” Droptail shouted. Then he fully separated his body, sending the pieces flying around the room like a swarm of angry birds.

  “Imagine fighting one person, maybe two? Difficult, right? What about fifty?”

  The pieces stopped, before recombining in the centre of the room.

  “Now I know what you’re thinking: ‘Why do I need to learn how to use my power?’” He leaned forward, grinning. “Let this demonstration be a lesson to you: having your power and using it is one thing, but knowing how to use it is a different story!”

  He pointed, squarely at me.

  “You!” He yelled. “What can you do?”

  I froze. “I uh- I can- I can manipulate my bones.”

  He nodded. “Great example! Show us what you’ve got!”

  I stood up, pulling the sleeve on my right arm back. Focusing my power into it, the same arm-blade I’d shown Elena before shot out from between my middle and fourth finger with a wet tearing sound. I heard some of the other students gasp.

  “Very nice! And how have you used this so far?”

  “M-Mostly things like this. I can make b-blades, bludgeons, I-I can extend my bones out f-further…uh, I think my bones are a lot more durable. I-I can always feel them, too.”

  Droptail was nodding as I was talking. “Fantastic!” He shouted. “But, I feel as if it is only scratching the surface! Tell me, you have that awareness of all of your bones, correct?”

  I nodded.

  “Then surely you can use all of your bones?”

  “I-” I paused. So far, I’d mostly stuck to weapons and shields coming from my arms because, well, it’d been easier. But now I was thinking about all of the other parts of me; my ribs, my pelvis, even my spine.

  “I- I don’t know. I…guess so?” I finally responded.

  “Good!” He shouted. “You have things to think about! Let this be one of the foundational lessons I teach you: your powers are not as blunt and simple as they seem. A blunt instrument is good, but not great; a sharper, more well-rounded instrument is better. Think outside the box!”

  Think outside the box. I thought to myself, suddenly becoming acutely aware of every bone in my body.

  Costume Department, Administrative Building, Young Defenders Training Facility, Meritas City. October 1st, 2014, 13:30

  “So, what do you think?”

  The voice of Threadbare - one of the Campus’s main costume designers - sang through the room. He was a tall, thin man dressed in a costume - or maybe it was his own casual outfit, I couldn’t tell - that felt like a strange blend of fashionable and horrifically garish, being all smooth lines and horrifically-clashing colours, with a ‘cape’ made of multicoloured ribbons flowing from his shoulders.

  Then, there was me, now almost-fully decked out in my new hero costume, looking like one of sketches come to life. It was primarily solid black, with white lines tracing up my legs, arms, back, and ribs in the impression of the corresponding bones, though much more sleek and dynamic than I’d expected. In my hand I was holding the last two pieces; the mask - white with black accents and painted to make it look like a skull - and a red silken scarf that I’d worn during the fight against Slaughterhouse; Mom’s scarf.

  Taking a breath, I slid the mask over my face, covering it completely. Immediately, there was a series of clicking sounds as panels slid out from behind the mask to cover the sides and back of my head, leaving my fair flowing free.

  I looked at myself in the mirror and felt a sense of awe course through me. It looked fantastic. I turned, looking at myself from the front and sides, then over the shoulder.

  “I-It’s perfect.” I said, realising that my voice had a faint metallic sound to it, like Red Rabbit’s but less intense.

  “Fantastic~” Threadbare said, stepping towards me and clapping a hand over my shoulder. “Now, give your powers a go. Make sure the suit can handle it.”

  “Y-You sure?” I asked. “I d-don’t want to damage it.”

  “You won’t, sweetheart. It's keyed to your powers so it should adapt fine. But, better to test, right?”

  I nodded, focusing my power into my right hand. Like I’d shown Elena yesterday, I forced a bone-blade to jut out from between my fingers, extending about two feet long. Holding it up, I looked down at where it had erupted from; the suit didn’t look torn at all.

  I focused again into my left arm, causing spikes of bone to jut out erratically. Again, the suit didn’t look torn. Then I undid both changes; the bones sunk back into my body with a series of wet sucking sounds, and the small holes in the suit immediately sealed themselves shut.

  “H-How does-”

  “Lieber Particles, my girl.” Threadbare responded. “Weird little things, but they’re used as the basis for almost every official costume. They can be encoded to a person’s power and respond in real-time to prevent damage. Also have the side-effect of being more resistant to tears, to a point.”

  “T-to a point?”

  “Don’t go jumping in a shredder or stabbing yourself.” He responded, laughing. “Now let me go see how your friend’s doing. Don’t go anywhere!”

  I turned back to look at myself in the mirror again. It was so strange, looking at this idea that I’d drafted up a thousand times and seeing it looking real. Not just real, but good.

  But as I looked closer, I found myself feeling more critical; not of it, but of me. I couldn’t help feeling that I didn’t deserve it. I found myself looking at the mirror again; I didn’t have the right amount of charm for it, I couldn’t stand in a way that made it feel like it fit. I was too thin and bony, and the costume made me look like a scarecrow.

  That thought sapped some of the energy out of me.

  It wasn’t just that; if what Red said about patrols was right, then people would see me like this. Random, everyday people would see this and think it was a new hero?

  “Skye, check me out!” Elena’s voice rang out, cutting off my train of thought.

  I turned to look at her, not knowing what to expect. Which meant that what I saw caused me to do a bit of a double-take.

  Where my costume was black and white with the red scarf as a splash of colour, her costume was dark orange with dollops of magenta and black dotted across it in symmetrical patterns. It was incredibly colourful, almost looking like some kind of exotic poisonous frog. As if to double-down on the frog theming, the helmet of her costume had two bright yellow bulbs sitting just above her eyes, looking like frog’s eyes. There were packets mounted onto her chest, as well as on the costume’s belt.

  She gave a bit of a spin as she came out, a wild grin on her face. “So, thoughts?”

  As she turned, I realised it hugged her body well; really well.

  You’re staring. Stop staring!

  I felt myself blush under the mask.

  “I-It’s very…colourful?” I responded, struggling.

  She started cackling. “Yeah dude! Based it off a poison dart frog, and those fuckers are all colours.” She started fiddling with the packets. “These things can store any food things so I can grab and go. But that’s not the best bit!”

  I realised she was holding what looked like a bulky black mouthguard, with a circular attachment fixed on either side of it.

  “This bad boy can fit food inside of it for emergencies. Then all I need to do is open my mouth real far and it shoots it in my mouth before I spit. That way I don’t have to struggle trying to find stuff on the fly.”

  “W-Wow you…really put a lot of thought into that.” I said, looking at myself. I’d been more focused on the design, not the practical elements.

  I looked over her. She looked like the costume looked tailor-made for her. Unlike me.

  “You look badass, by the way.” Elena said. That made me blush under the mask; I got warm enough that I could feel the mask starting to steam up.

  All of a sudden, my phone pinged. I pulled off my mask, turning away from Elena, and grabbed my phone.

  There was a single message. Reading it felt like someone pouring a bucket of ice-cold water right over me.

  Red Rabbit

  Skye, come and see me as soon as you can.

  My stomach dropped. My eyes widened.

  Fuck.

  Special Case Room, Young Defenders Training Facility, Meritas City. October 1st, 2014, 14:00

  I stood outside the door to the Special Case room, trying to center myself. It wasn’t working. I felt anxious, terrified. Every single part of my brain was firing on all cylinders, feeding me the worst possible scenarios.

  I was going to be expelled and it hadn’t even been two days.

  Glory was going to kill me.

  I was going to spend the rest of my life in jail.

  She deserved it.

  I froze. The thought snapped loud in my mind, catching me off-guard.

  Did she deserve it?

  I’d done nothing to provoke her, sure, but I didn’t need to react the way I did. I’d hurt someone who was meant to be my classmate. Not only that, someone whose life I’d saved.

  But also, she’d come after me, not thinking I’d fight back. So maybe she did-

  The door clicked open and my stomach lurched again. My first instinct was to run, but I knew that would ruin what little chance I had left. As I turned to look at the door, I saw Red Rabbit’s helmet poke out from the doorway; there wasn’t any stylised cartoon image on the helmet’s display screen, just a pair of pixelated eyes over an audio waveform that moved as she spoke.

  “Sorry for the wait, Skye.” She said, her voice still peppy and high-pitched, but a bit more even than normal. “You can come in.”

  Taking a breath, I slowly made my way inside, back into the familiar Special Case room. Red was still in her full armour, as always. It was taking everything I had to not fully break down and start crying.

  “Take a seat.” Red said, hopping onto a seat on one of the tables as I sat opposite her. I was trying to keep myself stable, but I couldn’t meet her eyes.

  “So, how’re you finding your first proper day?” She asked.

  That question completely threw me. It was the literal last thing I’d expected; I’d thought I was going to get a proper dressing down, not something so casual.

  “I-It’s been…fine, so far.” I murmured.

  “Good, good.” Red replied. “Sorry for the uh, sudden message. I just wanted to touch base with you, see how you were finding things so far, see if you needed any support.”

  “Su- Support?” I asked, confused.

  “I’m aware your situation is…a bit dicey, even for Special Cases. I thought Siobhan had a lot going on, but you might have her beat!” She continued, laughing.

  “W-what about what- what happened yesterday… w-with- Glory.” I stammered. I’d thought it would have loosened some of the pressure I was feeling; it didn’t.

  There was a pause, as Red’s shoulders dropped slightly.

  “Yeah, I was getting to that.” She sighed, her cheerful tone becoming more gentle, but not softening..

  “A-Am I- Am I going to be…” I started, before the words caught.

  Red reached out, placing an armoured hand on my shoulder. “Sorry, Skye, I probably should’ve started with this. You’re fine.”

  That made me stop. Fine?

  “R-really?” I asked, bewildered.

  “Yes,” Red responded, her tone measured and more professional than I was used to, “But I’m going to be completely straightforward with you about what happened, and what can’t happen again.”

  “I- I hit Glory- Jessica, and-”

  “Yeah, you did,” Red said calmly, “I don’t think I need to tell you that you should not have retaliated in the way you did.”

  My stomach twisted.

  What was I supposed to do, I thought, let her break me against that tree?

  “But from what I could see? She started it. You were acting in self-defense. She was the one who escalated, and you reacted under threat.”

  My head felt like it was spinning. Those two ideas - to not retaliate, and that I’d been justified in acting in self-defense - slammed together and tangled together in my brain; they ran completely at odds with each other.

  What was I supposed to have done, then? I thought, trying to make sense of it in my mind.

  “But I still-”

  “Skye,” Red said, more firmly, “I’ve already spoken to Jessica. She doesn’t want to take this any further.”

  That made me stop dead in my tracks.

  “W-Why?” I asked.

  Red sighed. “It’s not because she’s feeling charitable. It’s because she doesn’t want it on the record, in her own words.”

  I just blinked, my expression blank.

  That makes no sense. I thought. If Jessica didn’t think I belonged here, wouldn’t she jump at the first chance to get me kicked out?

  “You’ve probably noticed this already, but Jessica puts a lot of stock into her image. She’s one of this place’s best up-and-comers, she knows it, and she wants people to know it too. Hell,” Red said, a laugh slipping out, “Why do you think she calls herself ‘Glory’?”

  I nodded. Glory was a very proud name, but especially one to give yourself.

  “She’d rather pretend that going after a new first-year didn’t happen, because it doesn’t look good for her. Which, honestly? Is the best-case scenario for you; I don’t think she’d be brazen enough to do it again.”

  That made it make more sense. Still didn’t make me feel any better.

  So she doesn’t want to take it further because she’d look bad? I thought to myself, wracking my brain.

  Then a thought crawled into my mind.

  Jessica doesn’t care what she did to you. And she thinks can get away with it.

  “Question is, Skye.” Red continued, “Do you want to take it any further?”

  I paused, feeling my stomach lurch.

  Do I?

  She wanted to drop it. I should just let it go, right?

  No! She came after you, fuck her image! Part of me, small but loud and pissed off, screamed. It was also a part of me that I knew I’d never act on.

  If she’s giving you an out, The other, more rational side of me retorted, Take it. Red’s saying it’s fine and you’re still about to have a panic attack. How’re you gonna feel if you piss her off more?

  I shook, letting out a breath I hadn’t realised I was holding.

  “N-No, I-” I whispered, “I think I just want to leave it.”

  Red nodded once. “Then that’s that. The thing I’d say to watch out for: Jessica isn’t the bury-the-hatchet type. She might get snippy, might get critical with you. Like I said before: do not retaliate.” She said again, her voice pointed, “I’ll keep an eye out for you; she gives you any problems, you come to me, ok?”

  I nodded, but the order to not retaliate didn’t sit right. Nothing about this sat right.

  What if Glory came after me off-campus?

  What if she found some kind of blind spot that nobody had accounted for?

  What if she got Maddie to do her dirty work for her?

  Shit, is that why Maddie spoke to me? I thought, my brain spiralling me again.

  “Skye?” Red’s voice interjected, cutting me off.

  I flinched. I didn’t realise I’d zoned out. I nodded quickly.

  “Good.” Red exhaled, softening slightly. “You’re doing ok, Skye. If you ever need to talk, the door's always open.”

  I nodded, before I started to head outside. I waved Red goodbye, but as the door closed, my brain started running around in circles again.

  Somehow talking to Red about this had made me feel better and worse at the same time.

  Sure, Jessica didn’t want to take it any further.

  But she’d suffered no consequence. Just because she was this image-obsessed “golden girl” that meant she could get away with trying to kill me?

  I turned back to the door, about to open it. But I couldn’t. I just turned away again, slowly trudging down the corridor, trying to keep my mind as clear as I could.

  But as I did, a single nagging thought sounded loud and clear into my brain.

  Glory deserved it.

  I couldn’t shake it, my mind focusing on how Glory had acted yesterday, how angry she was, and what she’d said. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did, sure.

  But despite my anxiety about all of this, I couldn’t deny that it felt satisfying, it felt good to knock her down a peg.

  Fracture-Verse Fact - Star Wars

  Empire Strikes Back, and a third film - Revenge of the Jedi - that got cancelled; most people in the setting's present day view it as a cult Sci-Fi film with a very dedicated following. In 2009, it was given a grim and gritty remake alongside a lower-budget sequel to said remake in 2012. Neither film was very good.

  Wilhelm Scream is still about as widespread in Fracture’s world as it is in ours.